Murder on Kaanapali Beach

by R. Barri Flowers

  He smiled. "Ms. Monroe is a great artist."

  "Don't tell her that," joked Leila. "It might go to her head."

  Maxwell chuckled. "If you have talent, there's no reason not to flaunt it."

  "Maybe you're right."

  "So are you here alone?" he asked, glancing about trying to determine if she was with someone.

  Leila wasn't sure what it would say about her if she told the truth. "Couldn't find a date," she answered, though in reality, she hadn't tried to find one. Actually, she had briefly considered asking Jonny Chung if he wanted to come, knowing he enjoyed being out and about. But she didn't want him to get the wrong impression, so she scrapped the idea. She certainly would never consider asking Blake Seymour to attend even a platonic outing, now that he seemed to have fit back in so nicely with his family.

  "That's very hard to believe," Maxwell said candidly. "You're way too attractive not to be able to find a date, probably anytime you wanted to."

  She laughed. Charming man, she thought. Did that come from lots of practice? Or was it natural?

  "I only wish that were true," Leila told him. "How about you?"

  He frowned. "Unfortunately, I'm here to meet an investor. I only came in after I noticed the lovely paintings outside."

  Leila hid her disappointment, though she could think of no reason why she should be disappointed over someone she didn't even know. "Don't let me keep you."

  "Yes, I better go." Maxwell glanced at his watch and then her. "This may be a bit forward, but would you like to get together sometime for a drink?"

  Leila gazed up at him. "You mean like a date?" She hoped she hadn't been too bold there.

  "A date sounds good." He grinned. "And it doesn't have to be at my restaurant."

  Though her mind said a definite yes, the roadblocks she tended to put up to protect herself said not so fast. "I'm pretty busy these days, so I'll pass on that."

  He frowned. "I understand." He sighed before digging out his wallet and removing a card, handing it to her.

  Leila looked at as he said: "There's my information in a nutshell, including my business and cell phone numbers. If you find time in your busy schedule, give me a call. Aloha."

  She watched him walk away thoughtfully as Jan approached. "Was that who I think it was?"

  "Who do you think it was?" asked Leila.

  "That gorgeous man who owns the Island House restaurant."

  "Yes, it was him."

  "I knew he was into you. Tell me you're going to go out with him."

  "I'm not," Leila hated to say. "At least not yet..."

  Jan narrowed her eyes. "Why not? Did he come on too strong? Not strong enough? What?"

  "None of the above. I just want to be extra careful before I put myself out there these days."

  "There's careful and there's stupid," Jan said. "Not to say that you're stupid, but he looks like he's got a lot going for him. Why not take a chance?"

  "Maybe because I want to check first and make sure this man who has a lot going for him doesn't also have a wife and five kids. Been there, done that, thank you. Well, maybe not the five kids, but you get the point. Then there's the fact that he could be a criminal disguised as a businessman, or worse."

  "Or none of the above," Jan said. "Since you're a cop, you can easily check out those things. If he passes the tests, then there should be nothing stopping you from going out with him."

  Leila agreed, in theory. Except for one little thing, that was often a big thing with some men. "He doesn't know I'm a cop. Many men can't deal with that, for whatever reason."

  "But other men find it sexy," said Jan. "You'll never know, unless you lose the fears and see what happens."

  Leila laughed humorlessly. "Thanks, Counselor. We'll see what happens. In the meantime, let's go check out more of the Lahaina Friday Town Party."

  Jan smiled. "You're on."

  Leila smiled back, and then glanced about to see if Maxwell Kishimoto had decided to stick around.

  He hadn't.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  On Monday morning, Leila ran the name Maxwell Kishimoto through the system and came up empty. No criminal record. Not so much as a parking ticket. Was he for real or just a figment of her imagination?

  She breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he had at least passed the first test of seeing if he was the right material for her to jump back in the dating game. But she still wanted to know more about him, like was he really single, as implied? The last thing she wanted or needed was to end up with a broken heart again by getting involved with a handsome, successful married man.

  As such, she was being overly cautious this time around when it came to romance. Then there was still the matter of how he might feel about dating a cop. Some men wanted to see her gun. Others felt as though it was somehow an affront to their masculinity. Where did he stand on the issue?

  These thoughts were put on hold as Leila looked up from her computer screen when a female officer got her attention. "There's someone in the interrogation room I think you'll want to see..."

  "Really?" Leila gazed up at Officer Sanchez, who had been with the force for just over a year and seemed to be a good fit.

  "Yeah, he says he's got some information on the Joyce Yashiro investigation."

  "That's certainly something I can use," Leila quipped, though not expecting miracles. Still, every possible lead had to be taken seriously. She stood up and said: "Mahalo."

  On the way, Leila stopped by Chung's desk, informing him of the latest development.

  Chung stopped doing some paperwork and stood. "Let's hear what he's got to say..."

  The moment they stepped inside the room, Leila recognized the man. Or at least he bore a pretty good resemblance to the unidentified male seen in Joyce Yashiro's security video.

  The man, who was seated, was in his late thirties. He was tall and slender, with dark hair that seemed a bit longer than in the video.

  "I'm Detective Sergeant Kahana," she told him, "and this is Detective Chung. Who are you?"

  "Hal McCann," he said evenly.

  Leila glanced at Chung. Before seizing the moment in having a suspect in Joyce's murder right in their lap, she wanted to hear him out.

  "How can we help you, Mr. McCann?" she said nicely, while they remained standing.

  He licked his lips. "I think I know who murdered Joyce Yashiro."

  Chung peered at him. "Is that right?"

  "Yes."

  "Interesting, but we were thinking it might have been you," Chung told him bluntly. "It just so happens that we have you on video as one of the last people to visit the victim—thereby making you one of the last people to see her alive..."

  McCann shifted in the chair. "I would never have harmed Joyce. I only came here to try to help you. But if you're not interested, I'll be going—"

  Chung pressed a hand on his shoulder, keeping him from getting up. "You're not going anywhere. Not until we have a little conversation."

  Leila took this opportunity to sit across from the suspect. She knew if he was a killer, he was unarmed and not likely to be able to take the two of them on, should he choose to get physical.

  She met his eyes. "Why don't you start by telling us what the nature of your relationship was with Joyce Yashiro?"

  "We went out on a couple of dates, but it was nothing serious."

  "Where did you meet?" She wondered if it was the Maui Hot Dates site.

  "At the gym," he said, adding: "The Fitness Paradise Club in Lahaina."

  Looks like Joyce got around, thought Leila. And she was clearly open to playing the field while she sorted out her marriage issues. But that was no reason for someone to kill her.

  "What were you doing at her house the day before she was murdered?" she asked, peering at him.

  "I dropped by to tell her I was on my way back to Las Vegas, where I live," McCann responded calmly. "We became friends and just hung out sometimes—there was no sex involved."

  Sounds plausible
enough on the surface, Leila thought, but she needed to hear more. "What do you do for a living, Mr. McCann?"

  "I'm a dealer at a casino. I keep a condo on Maui for vacation purposes."

  "And you just happened to be here just before someone suffocated and strangled Joyce Yashiro?" Chung asked skeptically.

  McCann grimaced. "If I'd known that would happen, I would've done whatever I could to try to prevent it. Joyce would have done the same for me. I guess that's why I'm here now, to do right by my friend."

  It's a little late for that, mused Leila, but asked: "Who do you think murdered Joyce Yashiro?"

  He sighed. "I think that son of a bitch estranged husband of hers did it."

  Leila looked up at Chung, who was still hovering over the suspect, and then back. "Why would you say that?"

  "Because she was afraid of him and what he might do to her. Verlin has a history of knocking Joyce around. She figured it was only a matter of time before his temper and animosity toward her grew deadly."

  "Why would Joyce confide in you about the domestic violence?" Leila asked.

  McCann cocked a brow. "Why wouldn't she? We were friends and I guess she needed to get it off her chest."

  In spite of Verlin Yashiro's claims to the contrary and insistence that he was the victim rather than offender, Leila had no trouble believing that Joyce had been abused by him—especially with at least two people asserting this was the case, including her son, Ayato. But even if that were the case, had it escalated to murder when they were no longer even living together? And what about Yashiro's alibi that appeared to be solid?

  She decided to go with that and see what McCann thought. "Mr. Yashiro has an iron clad alibi as to his whereabouts during the time of his wife's murder. So, as you see, he's not very high on our suspect list. You, on the other hand—"

  "He could have gotten someone else to do the job for him," McCann said, cutting her off. "I'm telling you, Verlin is her killer—or the one behind it—not me. If you choose not to believe that, it's your problem. Besides, according to Joyce, her husband was having some money problems—another reason why he might have wanted her dead."

  "What kind of money problems?" Chung asked.

  "Apparently it was cash flow problems. All I know is Joyce had a bad feeling that he might come after her. I think he did."

  Leila stared at the notion thoughtfully. They had explored Yashiro's finances and come up with nothing solid to indicate he was in financial trouble. But he could have found ways to cover it up. Being able to collect on his wife's substantial insurance policy, pending completion of the police investigation, could certainly go a long way toward clearing up his debts.

  Leila leaned forward. "Why did it take you so long to come forward with your allegation?"

  "I only found out that Joyce had been killed when I got back to town yesterday," McCann explained. "I could barely wrap my mind around it. Then I remembered her fears regarding her husband and knew I had to tell you guys."

  Chung narrowed his eyes. "Can you prove you left the island before Joyce Yashiro was killed and didn't come back until yesterday?"

  "Yeah," he responded. "The airlines would have the records of my flights and departures. Also, the casino where I work keeps accurate track of workers when they're on duty."

  Leila certainly could not dismiss his comments out of hand, considering that the investigation into Joyce's killer was still active. Meaning the killer had not been positively identified or taken into custody.

  It would be simple to verify McCann's whereabouts and either remove him from their suspect list or put him front and center.

  She stood up. "Thanks for coming in, Mr. McCann. We'll certainly look into everything you've said."

  "I hope so." He got to his feet. "Joyce was a decent lady. I'll miss her."

  After they saw him out and checked out his story, Leila and Chung brought Seymour up to snuff, including the fact that McCann had been in Las Vegas at the time Joyce Yashiro was murdered so he couldn't be her killer.

  "I'd say we need to bring Yashiro back in for questioning," he said. "See what he has to say on the subject."

  "Same old, same old," suggested Chung. "The man's not going to confess—not without something to force his hand."

  "Unfortunately, we don't have much," Leila said. "We'll just have to lean on him a bit harder and see if he cracks—even while we pursue any other leads that come our way."

  "Just get it done, one way or the other, so we can close this case!" Seymour bellowed. "Having two unsolved murders on Maui is not good for me, you, or the public—if you get my drift."

  Leila did only too well. He was feeling the heat as lieutenant and making sure they felt it too. And he wasn't cutting her any slack as his ex-lover. Nor would she have it any other way, needing no favors when doing her job.

  Now they just needed to follow McCann's lead and Joyce's premonition to see if they were on the right track in finding her killer.

  * * *

  Chung picked up Verlin Yashiro and brought him in for questioning. He was clearly none too pleased that he had been dragged out of a meeting. But that was his problem. If he had nothing to hide, he could thank them later for being thorough in searching for his estranged wife's killer. If that person happened to be him, or someone acting on his behalf, then no one was going to cut him any slack.

  Certainly not me, Chung thought, as he led Yashiro into the interrogation room.

  Yashiro sat down, his brow creased. "I'm not quite sure why I'm here, Detective. I thought I already answered all your questions."

  Chung sat down in front of him. "I just have a few more for you." He gazed at the suspect, imagining him killing his wife or getting someone else to do it for him. "Let's talk about your relationship with your wife again..."

  Yashiro pursed his lips. "What do you want to know?"

  "Why did you use her as a punching bag? And, please, don't give me that sad song and dance crap about her knocking you around, because that doesn't fly with me!"

  Yashiro sighed. "What I told you was the truth, Detective. It doesn't matter to me if you believe it or not. I never used my wife as a punching bag, as you suggested. I just defended myself from her aggression—but not by retaliating."

  Chung glanced at the mirror, knowing Leila was watching on the other side, assessing the suspect's character. He fixed him with a hard stare and said: "We have a witness who says otherwise. According to this person, Joyce Yashiro was scared to death of you and your violence. And she was sure you'd try to kill her sooner or later. Did her hunch prove to be true?"

  "No!" Yashiro blared. "Your so-called witness is lying. I never laid a hand on Joyce and you can't prove otherwise. As for her believing I would kill her, that's not possible. My wife and I were separated and both seeing others. I gave her no reason before or after our separation that I wished her harm. Ask my son, if you want. I only wanted to keep things peaceful between Joyce and me, as well as Ayato. Taking away his mother would have only made my son hate me. I could never have lived with that. I also have an alibi for the time of her death—and still cared too much for Joyce to ask someone else to end her life."

  Admittedly, Chung had a difficult time believing he was responsible for his estranged wife's death. But, then again, many killers were master manipulators. Was that the case here?

  Leila came into the room on cue. Chung nodded at her, standing. "I'm done with him. If you have any more questions, have at it."

  She forced a smile at the suspect. "We appreciate your cooperation in this investigation," she said evenly. "Our only objective is to solve the murder of your wife as quickly as possible so we can all move on to something else."

  "I understand," Yashiro said. "However, it seems like we keep coming back to the same things over and over. I did not kill my wife and had nothing to do with it."

  "The fact that you're standing by your statement makes me inclined to believe you," Leila said, sitting in Chung's chair. "But I do need to ask you about
your finances."

  He tensed. "What about them?"

  "We have information that seems to indicate business is not going as well as you had suggested earlier. Would you care to comment on that?"

  "My business is doing fine. I have some cash flow problems from time to time like any successful business, but I'm able to pay my creditors and keep operations running smoothly. I'm not sure what any of this has to do with my wife's death—"

  "It speaks of a possible motive—if you decided the insurance on her was more important than her life," Leila said bluntly.

  "Nonsense!" barked Yashiro. "No amount of money would have been worth Joyce's life. Apart from that, I'm not in financial trouble." He sighed and glanced at Chung who was leaning against the wall. "Look, unless you plan to charge me with something, I'm afraid I must ask that you stop this harassment."

  "Or what?" Chung challenged.

  "Or I'll have to come with my attorney from this point on."

  "I don't think that will be necessary," Leila offered. "You're free to go, Mr. Yashiro. Mahalo again for coming in."

  He got up, glared at them, and left.

  Chung shook his head. "If he's behind the death of his wife, he's doing a damned good job of covering his tracks."

  "If he's responsible for the murder, he'll slip up," Leila said. "They always do. And that's when we'll nab him—or whoever decided to put Joyce Yashiro into an early grave."

  Chung concurred, while wondering if he should put his money on Verlin Yashiro, or even his son Ayato, as being involved in the murder. Or would someone else among their list of suspects emerge as the perp and be taken down?

  * * *

  That afternoon, Leila stood at the window eyeing the words: Eddie Naku Investigations. She took a breath and went inside the Lahaina based private investigator's office. She had known Naku since he was a homicide detective for the Maui County Police Department a few years ago, before he quit and became a private eye. They had dated once, but ended it shortly thereafter, with both acknowledging they didn't belong together.

  Now here she was calling on him out of the blue. Hopefully, he wouldn't turn her away.

  "Aloha," the voice said spiritedly. "Can I help you?"